


Strangers on a Train Rule

by literati42



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: AU, Banter, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Malcolm Bright Needs a Hug, Malcolm Bright Whump, Romance, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:55:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28208655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literati42/pseuds/literati42
Summary: AU: On a train to his way to his new life as a detective in New York, JT meets a young soon to be ex-Harvard student on Winter break. They both have a lot to distract each other from, and JT finds, Malcolm can be very distracting.
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/JT Tarmel
Comments: 10
Kudos: 46
Collections: Prodigal Son Holidays Fic Exchange





	Strangers on a Train Rule

**Author's Note:**

  * For [batonblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/batonblue/gifts).



JT looked up a the train and sighed, dragging his duffle over his shoulder, and shifting his phone against his other ear. “I can’t believe you didn’t take a flight,” his aunt, Jana was saying in his ear. She was a lot younger than his mother, a late in life child for his grandparents, and so there were times she felt more like a big sister than an aunt. Especially when she nagged him.

“It’s cheaper,” JT replied.

“I told you I would pay for a ticket.”

“Honestly, Jana, I could live without ever setting foot on a plane again.”

He could practically hear her pursed lips on the other side of the call. JT knew she would sense the truth and the lie, both wrapped together. It was cheaper. The scent of airplane terminals did take him back to deployment, to the moments before going overseas. But it was not a trigger for his PTSD, not really. He could get on a flight without the panic setting in. It was uncomfortable, but not unmanageable. In the end, a train took longer than a flight. Gave him more moments to work up to the one moment where he had to set foot in the city.

More time before he started a new chapter of his life.

“Just make sure you get settled in before the holidays?” Jana said.

“I’m not even doing anything for the holidays, Jana,” he replied, even though they had this conversation before. Even though he knew they would have it again. JT had left his aunt’s house just this morning after spending Thanksgiving with her and her partner. She wanted him to spend Christmas with them too, but he knew he needed to get back to his new place in the City. To start his life. He told her that his new boss wanted him starting that week, but really, it was JT that asked the department if he could start early. “The train’s leaving. I’ll call you when I get there.”

“Stubborn man,” she said, then, “I love you.”

“You too,” he replied, hanging up. A sigh escaped his lips again. “Okay, Tarmel. Get it together.” The former soldier stepped onto the train.

He found an empty seat reasonably fast, glanced at it long enough to see another man curled up in the window seat, before shoving his duffle in the overhead and taking sitting down. His aunt had upgraded his ticket against his will, but he was still not in the most expensive part of the train, so it surprised him when he glanced at his fellow passenger. The man was young—maybe a few years younger than himself—pale, and skinny. He was wearing a white sweater under a long coat, with shoes that were still shiny despite the aftermath of snow outside. Between that and the briefcase at his feet, everything about him reeked money. Certainly enough to afford a seat further up the train.

The man glanced over and caught his scrutiny. JT caught startlingly blue eyes for a second before they glanced up and down him. He felt a bit like an interesting specimen under that look. JT squared his shoulders. “Debating the likelihood of changing seats?” he asked.

“What?” His seatmate asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

“Not the kind of person you expected to sit beside you?” JT replied. He had not fought battles overseas and survived only to hide from conflict at home. If the man wanted to stick up his nose at JT, he would have to say it out loud. Of course, the soldier was not expecting his seatmate to frown further.

“You never know what kind of person will sit beside you on a train,” the man replied, “I try to gauge everyone. Just like you were gauging me before I turned around.” It was JT’s turn to look confused, but this man’s face cracked in a smile. “I could see your reflection in the window.”

JT let out a small laugh of surprise.

“Well,” the man said, “Did you make any conclusions about me?”

JT realized that apparently, he was not the only one in a challenging mood. “Did you make any about me?”

This man’s lips turned up slightly in a smile again. He had the look JT recognized from playing chess with other soldiers on the long deployments—the look of someone caught up in choosing the next step.

“My last seatmate was a middle-aged woman who told me about the lives of her five cats, Mitty, Raymond, Alexander, Darby, and Chet.”

JT frowned, “Who names their cat Chet?”

“I know, it’s not a promising start for a feline,” the man replied.

“So, am I a step up from cat lady?”

“Remains to be seen.”

JT smirked, shrugging, “Fair enough. You never answered my question though.”

“Neither did you.”

JT stuck out his hand, “JT Tarmel.”

The man took it, “Malcolm…” The man paused where a last name would fit, seemed to let the word roll around, then dropped it without going on.

“No last name?”

“You didn’t give me your full first name,” Malcolm replied.

“You don’t know that, my full first name could be JT.”

“No,” Malcolm replied, “You have a long first name and you hate it.”

JT raised an eyebrow. “You always talk that confidentially?”

“Only when I’m right,” Malcolm said, “Which is often.”

JT scoffed at this cocky kid, but that only seemed to amuse Malcolm who smiled in return. JT knew he could drop the conversation there, let the kid lose himself out the window again, and turn his own attention to the life he had waiting ahead. Maybe it was the smile that tipped the scale or maybe it was the way Malcolm was still looking at him, but JT found himself settling into the seat and asking, “So, where you coming from?”

“College,” Malcolm replied, “I go to a little school outside of Boston.”

JT laughed, “Are you for real?”

“Yes?” Malcolm replied, raising an eyebrow.

“I didn’t think people really did that outside of SNL sketches,” JT said.

“Did what?”

“Called Harvard a little school outside of Boston.”

Malcolm’s face broke into a smile that was part guilty, part embarrassed, and hundred percent caught. “That obvious?”

“Your million-dollar coat and your vague allusions? Yeah, it’s obvious.”

Malcolm sat forward, folding his hands. “Alright, let me do you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not the only one who is observant,” Malcolm replied. His eyes roved up and down JT, before settling back on his face. “You’re a soldier.”

JT felt a chill run down his spine, straightening in his seat. “Okay, that’s a lot freakier than me figuring out you went to some pretentious college.” 

Something flashed through Malcolm’s eyes almost quicker than JT could catch it, and Malcolm dropped his gaze. “You’re right, it is.” JT watched the kid’s leg start bouncing, nervous energy seeming to build up in him. JT felt a tinge of guilt, this Malcolm looked like a kicked puppy. Then he realized he was feeling guilty because a random stranger on a train overstepped and then looked hurt about it, and JT felt himself getting angry.

“How the hell did you know?” JT said.

Malcolm’s eyes flickered back to his and then away. Then his eyes returned again like this younger man could not quite disengage. “The way you read me, the college? It’s obvious to me, like that.”

“You said a cliché line about a college,” JT said, “You had a tell. What’s mine?”

Malcolm finally looked back up and began counting off his fingers. “Your posture. The way you are polite without even meaning to be. And there’s just something held back in a way that says you’ve lived through some things most people don’t see. Like you expect a certain reaction from people you aren’t comfortable with so you put up walls.” Malcolm’s eyes had gained a frightening level of intensity.

JT held up a hand, “And what should I make of your complete lack of boundaries? Want to tell me how to read that?”

Malcolm flinched, “Too far, right.” He glanced away. He sighed and leaned back in the chair, then immediately set forward again, restless. “There’s just a lot on my mind.”

“So, you decided to read me for filth to take your mind off things?” JT replied. Those blue eyes lifted to him, a slight sparkle in them.

“So, I was right?”

JT scuffed, “What are you, some kind of psychic con artist?”

Malcolm’s lips twitched with a smile, “Psych student.”

“Damn, I really did pick the wrong seat.”

Then Malcolm laughed and JT smiled back in return. It was infuriating how much JT liked making this stranger smile.

The train made an unusual, loud noise and slowed. Malcolm grabbed the arm of the chair between them, sitting forward. JT leaned out the aisle and glanced toward the front, but there were several cars in front of them separated by doors and he could see nothing useful. Then the train came to a full stop. JT glanced back at his seatmate, some useless comment about curiosity on his tongue, but it immediately died. Malcolm was tensing and releasing the muscles in his hand repeatedly. His leg was bouncing. Malcolm suddenly resembled nothing so much as a caged up tiger, ready to bite the first hand approaching him.

“Whoa…”

“Let me out,” he said quickly. JT frowned but stood. He was barely into the aisle before Malcolm got up, brushing past him in a trail of expensive coat and scarf. He made for the door separating the cars. JT did not know this man, did not owe him anything. Those thoughts ran through his mind but fell ignored as JT followed, compelled by something he could not understand.

Malcolm opened the door between cars.

“Sir, you need to go back to your seat. It’s just a minor delay because of snowdrifts…” one of the train workers said as Malcolm went past her to the emergency door. “Sir!” Malcolm yanked it open and got out, into the snow.

“Sorry,” JT said in his wake, “I’ll get him.”  
“Get him back on the train now,” she replied, but JT spared no more attention for her. He got down, stepping into the thick snow at the side of the track. Malcolm had walked halfway down the bank and was pacing back and forth, rubbing his hands together.

“What the hell?”

He glanced up at JT for a second, then back down.

“They need everyone on the train,” JT said, hoping something more direct would break through whatever the hell this was.

“So get back on the train.”

“Malcolm…”

“I can’t do this.”  
“The train?”

“The trip. All of this. All of this was a mistake.”

“It’s just some problem with snow on the track,” JT said, approaching him. “The train will start going again any minute.”

“I shouldn’t have come at all.”  
JT put his cold hands in his pockets. “I’m no expert, but I don’t think the train can turn around.”

“So I’ll walk.”  
“To…Boston?”

“There’s lights over there.” Malcolm waved vaguely and JT wondered if this obvious city kid had any sense of the miles between where they stood and where those lights likely were. 

“Do you even know where we are?”  
That stopped him and he looked up, dark eyes full of something JT could not name. “Somewhere between…Boston and New York?”

“It’s not news to you that you sound insane, right?” JT asked, deadpan.

Malcolm’s hands fell to his side. “It’s not news to anyone.”

JT studied him. He knew he should leave this crazy, pretentious, rich white boy with no sense of boundaries here on the side of the tracks and get back on the train. JT had a life ahead of him in the city. He was getting an important opportunity and he could hardly risk blowing it by missing his appointment with the detective.

Or freezing to death in the middle of nowhere.

JT knew he should get back on the train, but he did not move. He looked at Malcolm and opened his mouth, not sure what was going to come out until he said. “You want to freeze to death?”

Malcolm’s blue eyes met his. “Not especially.”

“Because I’ve just got back from a deployment in the fucking desert and my blood hasn’t thickened yet.”

Malcolm studied him, “So…”

“So, get back on the train,” JT said, “And stop making me stand in the damn snow.”

“And you can’t get back on without me because what…no man left behind?”

“No, because when your rich ass family tries to sue over your incredibly stupid death, I don’t want to be included in the lawsuit.”

He saw a smirk cross Malcolm’s lips that were—JT noted—turning blue. Malcolm did come back up the bank toward JT then. He stepped back on the train, past the exhausted-looking train attendant. JT got on after him, and the door was shut behind them with a glare from the woman.

Malcolm went back into their car, but his steps slowed as he approached the seat. “There’s a snack bar.”

“Train food is expensive and also awful.”

“My treat,” Malcolm replied, “I need something to take the edge of the cold.”

“Do they serve alcohol?” JT asked, following Malcolm as he made his way forward on the train again. Malcolm smiled over his shoulder.

“Better.”

With that, he led the way, going up to the food car and motioning for JT to take a seat. JT slid into the booth, raising an eyebrow at him. “Just wait here.” Malcolm said, going off to order.

JT blew on his hands, trying to get the warmth back into them. It was only a little while before Malcolm returned, two steaming cups in his hands. He offered one to JT.

“Coffee?”

“Hot cocoa.”

“That’s better than alcohol?”

“A good cup of hot cocoa is better than anything.” Malcolm slid into the seat across from JT, smiling at him as if he had not just had a meltdown on the side of the road.

The train started back again and Malcolm frowned, looking out the window.

“Wishing you stayed out there?”

Malcolm’s blue eyes found him again. “The cocoa is helping.”

“And the not dying of frostbite?”

“A perk because it led to cocoa.”

JT shook his head.

Malcolm reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of Twizzlers. He pulled one free of the package and offered it to JT.

“Seriously? On top of cocoa?”

“Dinner of champions,” Malcolm replied.

“Is this a Big situation? Are you an eight-year old that’s been magically transformed into an adult?”

“I have always wanted to dance on a giant piano,” Malcolm said, then he raised his cup of cocoa like a toast. “Try it and you won’t be so dismissive.”

JT raised an eyebrow but he did take a sip. The cocoa was rich, full of flavor, and JT felt the warmth spread through him. “Not bad.”

Malcolm smiled and glanced out the window. “It’s snowing again.”  
“Aren’t you coming from Boston? Thought you’d be used to snow by now.”

“It doesn’t matter how frequent it is, if the snow ever stops being beautiful…” Malcolm met his eyes, “Or the cocoa ever stops being good then, what’s left?” The man set his cup down and stared at it like the chocolate held secrets in and of itself. “I actually haven’t had hot cocoa in years.” JT wondered how this man could flit from emotion to emotion. Even as the questions crossed JT’s mind, he knew it was none of his business. He knew he should let it go.

JT told himself it was just his detective mind being curious that made him ask the next question. “Yeah? On some kind of diet?” JT eyed the skinny man in front of him.

“No, just a lot of memories.”

“They anything to do with why this trip is a mistake?”

Malcolm swirled the cup slightly, mixing the cocoa with each flick of the wrist. “Yeah, you could say hot cocoa is at the heart of the problem.”  
“Holiday drama waiting on the other side?”

“No,” Malcolm said, letting out a breath, “This wouldn’t be easier any other time of year.” He put the cup down and pushed it across the table to JT. “You can finish it if you want. It was a stupid thought.”

JT glanced at the cup and then back at Malcolm. “The cocoa or the trip?” But Malcolm was not looking at him anymore. He was not looking at anything as far as JT could tell. His eyes were far away, seeing something JT could not guess. “You know, the thing about train rides?” JT said then, “You won’t ever see me again.” Malcolm’s eyes refocused slowly, and he lifted his gaze back up. “So, you can say things you ordinarily wouldn’t.”

“Or plot a murder together?” Malcolm asked.

JT furrowed his brow.

“Strangers on a Train?” Malcolm asked, “Come on, it’s Hitchcock. A classic.”

“I hate horror movies.” JT shook his head, “The world’s awful enough in reality, why would you want to watch something worse.”

“So what do you watch? Comedies?” Malcolm asked, then leaned forward, “Romances?”

“Don’t knock it,” JT replied, “There’s something nice about two people finding each other.”  
“Like strangers on a train,” Malcolm replied, his lips smirked. “But less murder.”

“So, we’re strangers on a train,” JT said. “And what you say doesn’t matter. So, this is your chance. Even if I judge you, it won’t matter once the train stops.”

“You’re not promising not to judge me, just that if you do who cares?” Malcolm asked.

“Right, you make it easy to judge you,” JT replied, “After the Harvard comment.” Malcolm laughed and JT took that as a sign, he leaned forward. “So, why’s this trip a mistake?”

Malcolm tensed and untensed his hands. “I have to take bad news to someone who…doesn’t take bad news very well.”

“Fail out of Harvard?”

Malcolm’s lip quirked slightly, “More like…left willingly.”

“Oh,” JT said, “So, you’re walking away from the kind of education most people only dream of?”

“Not my dream,” Malcolm replied, “I’m a legacy.”

“There it is.”

Malcolm glanced at him, smirking slightly, “I know. But I’m a Yale legacy.”  
“Oh, a bad boy of the ivy league?”

“My grandparents disowned my mother. So, sending me to Harvard was her ‘fuck you’ to them.”

JT nodded, “Wow…that’s some privileged bullshit.”

Malcolm looked up at him, “It is isn’t it?” He laughed. “I can’t prove it, but my theory is that ivy league families’ major contribution to society is the invention of pettiness.”

It was JT’s turn to laugh. “So you’re telling your mom you want to go to Yale after all?” He paused, “Are you Rory Gilmore?”

“What…Did you just…make a Gilmore Girl reference?” Malcolm replied, laughing.

“And you got it so, no room to comment.”

Malcolm laid his head back, “I wish it was that simple. And yes my mother will be dramatic about it. She will make her response into a full-scale production, but it’s meaningless.” He shrugged, “She’s not the one I’m worried about.”  
“Your dad less accepting?”

The other man flinched. JT frowned. He watched Malcolm stretch his fingers again and this time noticed that this hand was shaking. “My father likes other people to see him as magnanimous.”

“How do you see him?”

Malcolm stared at the table, the shake in his hand increasing. Then suddenly he was out of the seat. “You’re right, all the sugar is getting to me,” he said.

JT looked at the undrunk cocoa and the uneaten Twizzler. “What sugar?”

Malcolm started walking down the length of the car, “I need to stretch my legs.” JT sat there in the booth. He realized he could stay here, drinking the expensive cocoa he did not have to pay for. He could do this and no one would blame him. He could let Malcolm walk to wherever he was going, taking with him his probing questions and searching eyes. He could let Malcolm go and that would be it.

JT stood and followed.

He followed Malcolm through the train, walking from car to car. Finally, Malcolm stopped, reaching up to hold on to an empty seat. He glanced back at JT. “I hate trains.”

“So why didn’t you call your family’s car?” JT asked, his tone teasing.

“Adolpho was busy with my mother.”

“Your…family really does have a car?”

Malcolm had the good grace to look at little chagrined that he had not known it was a joke. “Yeah. And I couldn’t drive myself so…the train seemed a good option.”

“Couldn’t drive yourself because rich people don’t do that?”

“Because I don’t know how,” Malcolm replied.

“You don’t know how to drive?”

“I get the basics, I just don’t have a license.”

JT shook his head, back and forth, letting that sink in.

Then the train stopped again. “More snow?” Malcolm asked, frowning at JT.

A voice came on the speaker and in a staticky, garbled voice, told them to return to their seats. Considering that they had not passed anyone else getting up except to go to the bathroom, JT had a feeling this was a targeted message. “Come on.” This time he led them back, waiting for Malcolm to slid into the window seat before taking his. Then the voice came on the speaker again.

“An unexpected snowstorm came through in front of us. We are going to stop at the next station while the track is cleared.”  
Malcolm frowned, “Must be bad if it’s stopping the train.”

JT nodded. Focusing on the clock on his phone, wondering how many more delays stood between him and the city. JT was so lost in thoughts about what came next that he did not realize how silent his seatmate was until the train pulled into the station.

“You…” JT started.

“Can you let me out?” Malcolm cut in. JT frowned but gave a nod. He stood and Malcolm slid out of the seat and making for the door of the train car once more. Some passengers were staying put, others were getting out and stretching in the station. JT hesitated for a second, then got out and followed the man again.

Malcolm looked back when JT got off with him. He was shaky and tense, but under it, JT could make out curiosity. Malcolm’s eyes were asking a question JT did not know if he wanted to answer.

Malcolm stopped and turned to him. JT saw a few snowflakes catching the station lights as they swirled down around Malcolm. “Want to go for a walk?”

“We should stay close to the train. For when it starts again?” JT replied.

“If it was going to be a few minutes, we wouldn’t have pulled into a station.” Malcolm looked up at him. “Come on, soldier. Let’s walk in the snow.”

It was almost Christmas. JT found himself on the edge between two lives—the one he knew but could not have anymore, and the one that was uncertain but full of promise. The conflict settled in his chest and occupied his mind any time he stood still. JT had tried to distract himself, visiting his aunt in the countryside, but all roads led him back to these thoughts.

Now here was a man with beautiful blue eyes that managed to be the most distracting person he had ever met.

Maybe for a moment, a walk was not the worst possible outcome to the delay. He shrugged. “As long as we don’t stand still. It’s still damn cold out here.”

Malcolm rewarded him with a smile and started off, away from the station and into the snow. JT kept up, glad he was wearing his army boots. He eyed Malcolm’s loafers and then his gaze went up to the coat. “Aren’t you freezing?” JT asked.

Malcolm glanced his way, “It is cold,” he replied.

“But you hate trains more than you hate cold.”  
“Right,” Malcolm said, “I don’t like being trapped.”

JT raised an eyebrow, “I don’t know that most people would consider a train they willingly boarded a trap.”

“I never claimed to be most people.”

“No, you’re not,” JT agreed. Malcolm was walking quick, careless of the snow, moving like he could not get away from the rain fast enough. “You really don’t want to have this conversation with your dad.”

Malcolm stopped in his tracks, his arms falling to his sides. He went from fully in motion to completely still. Then slowly he turned to face JT, his movements stiff with tension.

“Are strangers on a train rules still in place?”

JT put his hands in his coat pockets, “I’m still not planning to ever see you again.”

Malcolm nodded. “He has no idea I’m coming. I couldn’t tell him. I’ve had a million conversations with my father. A million. And not once has it been on my terms. Now I’m planning to walking in there and looking that man in the eyes. I am going to tell him that I am leaving the one thing he has always wanted me to do. He tells everyone about his son,” Malcolm bit out the word son like it tasted bad on his tongue. “His son the future psychologist, who is going to ‘discover the mysteries of the human mind’. He thinks I’m going to make some great discovery. And not only am I going to tell him that I’m not doing that anymore, but that I am going to do the one job that is most likely to feel like I’ve ripped his heart and showed it to him.”

Throughout his speech, JT kept unwavering eye contact. JT saw dark emotions swirling through those blue depths, bone-deep fear and pain so intense it stilled his breath.

Malcolm’s breathing stuttered as he finished speaking and he closed his eyes. “No,” he ended quietly, “I don’t want to see him.”

“Malcolm…” JT said, and then, “Damn you’re fucked up.”

Malcolm gave a startled laugh, releasing something of the desperation with the sound. He hung his head, running a hand through his hair. “Super fucked up.”

“So,” JT said. “Don’t go see him.”

“What?”

“If it fucks you up this much thinking about him,” JT shrugged. “Don’t go see him.”

“You make it sound simple.”

“It’s not simple,” JT replied, “Look, I don’t know all the things you learned in your psych books, but I know what a soldier looks like before they go into battle, and I know you shouldn’t have that look in your eye to visit your family.”

“You don’t arm yourself to visit your family?” Malcolm asked, a touch of a smile to his lips, but JT knew deflection when he heard it. No bit of that smile reached Malcolm’s eyes.

“Don’t go.”

“Yeah, you can say that because you don’t know my family.” Then the man turned around and began walking away. Fast again. He was not running, but he was just shy of it. The wind was picking up around them, the snow drifting into the path.

“Careful,” JT got out, moving to keep up with him. “The snow…”

But Malcolm was not being careful. His loafers skidded on a slick patch of snow and he slid. He put his arms out, trying to balance. JT reached for him, fingers ghost over his coat, trying to make contact with any solid part of the man. Then Malcolm’s flailing arm caught him and JT stepped forward to give him balance.

Right onto the same patch of ice.

They both went down together, a mess of limbs and winter coats. JT landed butt first on the snow and then sank onto his back, unable to stop himself from pulling Malcolm with him. For a second, he kept his eyes shut, then slowly opened them to meet a pair of blue ones. Malcolm on top of him, eyes worried. “You okay?”

JT nodded and pretended it was the fall that had him breathless.

Malcolm rolled off him into the snow and laid his head back like a child, JT thought. “It’s beautiful,” Malcolm said, staring up at the sky. His breath, visible in the cold, curled up around him. JT watched him for too long before he looked up. The stars were beautiful, a dazzling display unburdened by light pollution from the cities.

“I wish I was like you,” Malcolm said then and JT frowned.

“Like me?”

“Yeah,” Malcolm replied, he turned his head to meet JT’s eyes now. “Maybe I just wish I was someone else.”

JT stared silently into those eyes, trying to find the right words to say. “It’s fucking cold,” were the words that came out. Laugher flashed through Malcolm’s eyes as a smile tilted his lips.

“Yeah.” Malcolm got up slowly, brushing off snow and offering his hand to JT. JT took it.

“Your hands are freezing,” he said, getting up. Malcolm pulled his fingers up to his lips and blew on them.

“I guess, a little.”

“That damn fancy coat is not warm enough for snow angels.” JT tilted his head back toward the station. “Head in?”

Malcolm nodded, but some of the laughter fled his eyes. He started trudging through the snow, stepping in the footprints they made on the way and JT fell into step beside him.

“Who would you be,” JT asked, “If you weren’t you?”

Malcolm glanced over slightly. “Someone who could just not go. Someone better. He paused, considering, “Someone brighter.” JT raised an eyebrow and Malcolm smiled, “Not smarter. I mean…lighter. The kind of person that just has light in them? You know what I mean.”

JT did. He might not have put it that way before Malcolm did, but he had seen the shadow in those eyes. Something deeper than you found in the eyes of most strangers. Something darker.

“And what would this Brighter Malcolm do?” JT asked just as they got back, the lights of the station falling over them.

Malcolm turned to face him, “He would go for what he wants.”

JT wanted to know what Malcolm wanted.

He feared Malcolm saying what he wanted.

“Hey,” a man stepping out of the station said, “Weren’t you two on the train?” JT felt a cord of tension snap between them, rocketing him back to the here and now.

“Yes?” JT said it more like a question than he meant.

“Didn’t you hear the announcement? The train is about to leave.”

JT met eyes with Malcolm, and then as one, they took off back toward the train. Malcolm reached it a second before him, jumping up the steps, with JT just on his heels. JT nearly knocked Malcolm into the opposite door with his momentum, Malcolm grabbing his arm to steady himself.

The train stayed unmoving.

“What’s your hurry?” An older man said, stepping on behind them. “We have five minutes before we leave.” He walked around them eyebrow raised in disapproval.

JT did not know if he or Malcolm started laughing first, but suddenly they both were. Malcolm leaned into him as he laughed. As if it was normal for them to touch like this.

JT let him.

“That was anti-climatic,” Malcolm said when he finally regained his breath, looking up at JT. His cheeks were flushed with cold and it made him look even younger. He seemed to suddenly realize how close they were together. His eyes widened slightly, and he stepped away from JT. “Sorry…”

“Malcolm Bright wouldn’t apologize,” JT said, and he immediately wanted to kick himself for saying something so stupid. Malcolm looked surprised but smiled.

“Malcolm Bright.”

"A brighter Malcolm,” JT said.

“I like it,” he replied, “And if Malcolm Bright didn’t apologize, what would JT do? A…JT that is not you?”

“A JT that is not me?”

“Sure. If I get to be a different Malcolm, you get to be a different JT. Strangers on a train rules, but taken a step further.”

“And by extreme strangers on a train rules, who am I?” JT asked.

“You’re holding up the line,” A woman said, stepping around them. JT realized he had forgotten there were any other passengers on the train. The same way he had not heard the announcement on the intercom at the station. It turned out, this Malcolm was just as distracting as he thought.

“Idiots in love,” a second woman said, stepping around them.

JT glanced at Malcolm, but the other man showed no sign of hearing her. “Back to the seats?”

JT nodded. Malcolm would not meet his eyes and JT wondered if he had heard the woman after all. He wondered if he was about to sit next to a silent version of Malcolm for the rest of the trip. He wondered why that thought bothered him so much.

Then Malcolm slid into the window seat and turned back to him. “A different JT,” he said, “One who would tell me his full name.”

JT raised his eyebrow, feeling relief he did not want to interrogate at the fact that Malcolm was still talking. “A full name which is?”

“James…Terrance?”

“James Terrance Tarmel?”

“Yes,” Malcolm said, “What would James Terrance Tarmel be doing right now?”

"Based on that name? Preparing for his yacht trip,” JT replied.

“Fine,” Malcolm said, waving his hand, “You name the other you.”

“Can’t he still be JT?”

“Wow, even in a hypothetical alternate life you still won’t tell me your full name?” Malcolm replied, “What is it, a national secret?”

“Yes, highest clearance only.”

And Malcolm laughed again. JT was stupidly happy that he could cause that laugh.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“That’s because it’s a stupid question,” JT said, “I have no reason to be a different person.”

Malcolm quirked an eyebrow, “You’re happy as you are?”

JT almost said yes. If this conversation was happening any other time with any other person he would have, but strangers on a train rule was in place and Malcolm was not any other person.

“Happy isn’t the point,” JT replied, “I don’t want to be anyone else, happy or not.”

Malcolm studied his face with a kind of look JT could imagine him using as he contemplated a particularly hard problem at his fancy school. JT was not at all sure he liked being looked at like that.

“What?”

“I was just thinking I don’t have you entirely figured out.”

“Welcome to talking to people,” JT replied, “Most of them don’t give you their entire psychological profile in five seconds.”

“Maybe they don’t give _you_ their whole profile,” Malcolm replied, a cocky tint to his eyes.

“Oh, you figure everyone out in seconds, but I’m some kind of mystery?” JT said, tone dry. “What a line.”

Malcolm’s expression changed in a way JT could not read, “I wasn’t using a line on you.”

That was when JT realized what he said and more, what his words implied. “I didn’t mean a _line_ line.” He could have cursed at the random woman on the train who misread their body language and put that thought in their heads. Idiots in love, she had called them.

“What would you do if I did use a line?” Malcolm asked, and his words had gone quieter, the boldness gone from them entirely.

“You, you? Or Bright you? And am I me in this scenario? I can’t keep up.”

His tone was harsh, he knew it when Malcolm flinched. “The game’s gotten away from us,” Malcolm replied.

“Yeah.”

The train bustled, and Malcolm knocked into JT. He had not even realized they were already moving again. Then Malcolm was in his air space, looking up at him, and he was uncertain. JT went completely still as if any movement could lead them into dangerous waters.

“Strangers on a train rule, right?” JT said, and it was crazy, this thing he was suggesting. He stood up, and Malcolm’s eyes followed him. “You coming?” He watched surprise, confusion, and curiosity flash across Malcolm’s eyes, one after another. “Malcolm Bright would come.”

That decided it. Malcolm stood and followed him.

JT pushed open the bathroom door and went in, standing there. It was tighter than he hoped and he was suddenly even more aware how wild this was. Then Malcolm slid in beside him, shutting the door, his back to the sink as he stared up at JT. His eyes were wide, full of questions.

JT answered them with a kiss.

Then he was pushing Malcolm against the sink and Malcolm was kissing him back, giving as much as he got. JT knew this was insane. Something that happened in movies, not to rational, calm people like him. But his life was changing, irrevocably when they got to the station and he desperately needed a distraction. Needed anything to take the edge off the uncertainty, and Malcolm was so distracting.

Malcolm’s tongue was in his mouth, his body pressed against JT. His heart slamming against JT’s chest. Then Malcolm kissed his throat and JT let out a quiet moan. He leaned into Malcolm’s touch just as the train jostled again. He was unsteady—imagine that, with Malcolm’s lips at his throat—and he stumbled into the other man, pushing him harder than intended into the sink. Malcolm let out a pained “oof.”

“Sorry,” JT said, “You okay?”

Then Malcolm laughed, leaning his head on JT’s chest. “It’s cramped in here.”

“What, in your fancy Harvard life you’ve never made out with a stranger in a train bathroom?” JT asked, laughing to0. Malcolm looked up at him.

“I’ve never made out with a stranger at all.” A touch of pink to his cheeks, “I haven’t made out with all that many people at all.”

JT pulled back slightly, studying him. “You have made out with some people...before right?”

Malcolm gave a nod, “No, I have. I…” Malcolm covered his face with one hand, “I’m not very experienced.”

JT ducked his head, shaking it slightly, “Maybe we should cool down.”

He glanced up quick enough to see a flash of resistance in Malcolm’s eyes. Malcolm reached out and caught JT’s shirt, “No…”

It was foolish, crazy. This whole train ride had been like living in another world, so that was the only way JT could justify the words that came out of his mouth next. “No one’s expecting you right?”

Malcolm’s face filled with confusion. “Why? Are you planning to kill me?”

“I…what? No,” JT found it much harder to keep going with his thought, but he took one look at Malcolm. “Never mind, this is crazy.”

Malcolm’s fingers tightened around the fistful of JT’s shirt he still gasped, “I like crazy.”

“You should, you’re crazy,” JT replied, then, “Come back with me to my apartment.” He blurted it before he could think it through. Malcolm’s eyes widened in shock and he nodded. “We could be strangers a little while longer…even without the train.”

And Malcolm nodded.

JT was not sure if he was relieved or unsettled that the other man agreed.

Then Malcolm chased away all of those doubts by leaning up to kiss him. His kiss sent every other thought out of JT’s brain. He wrapped his arm around Malcolm’s back and deepened the kiss. Then Malcolm caught JT’s lip between his teeth, and JT nearly went weak at the knees right there.

Then someone was banging on the door.

“One second!” Malcolm called, his voice breathy. This time JT was the first to laugh. He smoothed down his shirt, took a breath, and opened the door.

Of course it was the damn _idiot’s in love_ woman standing there. Her eyebrow raised when she saw him and it found another level to climb to when Malcolm stepped out too.

JT cleared his throat and headed back to his seat. He only paused to let Malcolm slid over first before sitting down. Then they both broke down laughing like they were kids at summer camp, caught sneaking out after curfew.

“Her face,” Malcolm said between laugh.

Then the announcement over the intercom. They were reaching New York in five minutes. Malcolm sat up, glancing at him. There was something uncertain in his eyes.

“Are you sure you want me to come with you?” He asked, and JT heard in his tone the unspoken words. He was giving JT an out, in case words spoken in breathy whispers were immediately regretted.

“The hell kind of people are you used to kissing?” JT asked because it was all he could think, all he could see beneath that uncertainty. Malcolm shifted, eyes darting away, and JT knew. He knew he had hit exactly on the problem. This infuriating, captivating, stranger was used to the kind of person who kissed him and then kicked him aside.

“I would understand,” Malcolm replied.

JT hated every person who had ever made Malcolm feel like that.

“I’m not taking it back.”

Malcolm ducked his head, but JT saw the smile and it twisted something in his gut. An alarm bell went off in his head. Something rational in his brain told him he should not care this much about a stranger he was not planning to see after tonight. He silenced it. Maybe he did not want to be rational JT tonight after all.

Then the train was pulling into the station and JT forgot everything else, but this one thing. He had invited this man back to his place. He looked over to find Malcolm already looking back. Malcolm nodded and JT stood up. He had just enough wherewithal to grab his bag and start leading Malcolm off the train.

JT kept shooting looks over as they walked toward the door of the station. He opened his mouth to say something about a cab when his phone rang. He hesitated and glanced at the screen.

Gil Arroyo.  
“I have to take this,” he said.

Malcolm just nodded.

Then JT raised the phone to his ear, “Tarmel.”

“Did you get in alright?” Gil asked. He did not know JT beyond the interview, but already he was giving JT the father treatment. JT wondered why he did not find it more stifling, but somehow when Gil did it, it seemed entirely sincere without a hint of condescension.

“Yeah, just got to the station.”

“Yeah, I know. I hate to do this, I know you don’t start until tomorrow, but we’re understaffed and we caught a case.”

JT straightened, “Where do you need me to be?”

“Here, I’m already at the station.”

“Gil?” This was Malcolm. JT looked at him in confusion, but Malcolm was staring into the crowd. JT followed his eyes and sure enough, found Detective Gil Arroyo. Gil’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Kid!” He said, and then JT’s new boss was making his way through the crowd to scoop up his train seatmate in a hug. “I wasn’t expecting you!”

“Surprise.”

“You weren’t trying to avoid seeing me were you?”

“Never,” Malcolm replied.

“Detective Arroyo?”

Gil released Malcolm and looked at JT, his expression baffled. “Detective Tarmel?”

“ _Detective_?” Malcolm repeated, eyes widening, “Gil’s your boss?”

“You know him?” JT replied. Gil looked between them.

“You know each other?”

“We met on the train,” JT said.

“What are the chances,” Gil replied, smiling at them both, but he had detective’s eyes and JT could already see him trying to read the situation. “We have a crime scene to get to kid, but we can drop you at your mother’s place on the way.”

“Oh I…”

“Who definitely knows you’re coming, right?” Gil asked, raising an eyebrow.

“About that.” Then without finishing the thought Malcolm said, “Gil, could you give us…a second?”

Gil looked between them, frowning, but he nodded and stepped away to give them space. Malcolm still motioned JT a bit further away.

“Who are you to him?” JT asked.

“Don’t tell him about my father,” Malcolm said at almost the same moment. JT frowned, and Malcolm sighed, “He’s like family, but not the kind you get armored for.”

“My new boss…is your family?” He thought of the way Gil looked at Malcolm and nearly groaned, “He acts like your father.”

“Believe me, he doesn’t act like my father,” Malcolm replied, “Look, obviously strangers on a train rule is 100 miles in the rearview. You have to forget everything I said.”

“And did,” JT added. He watched hurt flicker for a second over Malcolm’s eyes before they hardened.

“Obviously.” Malcolm strode away, back toward Gil, before JT could say anything to wipe that hurt look from his face. “You can go on to the scene, I’ll call Adolpho.”

Gil’s gaze flickered between them again, then he reached over and cupped Malcolm’s neck. “You and I will talk later tonight, okay?”

“I’m really tired,” Malcolm replied and Gil frowned, but he let this drop.

“Breakfast tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Malcolm replied, he was walking with them toward the door, and JT did not miss how he was not making any type of call for a car. He remembered now Malcolm saying Adolpho could not pick him up at all.

JT fell in step with Malcolm. “You going to see him?” he asked, too low for Gil to hear.

“I came here for a reason.”

“You don’t have to go.”

“Bright doesn’t have to go,” Malcolm said, “I do.” Gil was stopped at his car, watching them.

“You sure you’re not coming, kid?”

“I’m good,” Malcolm said. He did not look back at JT as he walked down the street, hands in his pockets, but JT watched him go. He tried to ignore the way that Gil’s eyes stayed on JT as he did.

Slowly, JT got in the passenger seat of Gil’s car and finally looked over at the detective.

“You know, I would have thought you two wouldn’t hit it off.”

That was not what JT expected and he frowned. “Why?”

Gil tilted his head as he started out, “Malcolm can be an…acquired taste.”

The word taste brought back Malcolm’s mouth on his and JT did not need that image in his head while sitting beside Gil. “How do you know him?” he asked instead.

“Oh, he’s like family,” Gil replied, “Known him since he was a kid.” So, JT realized, he was reading the situation right. Malcolm was his boss’s kid, in reality if not in fact. Which complicated JT’s life exponentially. “Can I ask you something?” JT tried not to betray how nervous that question made him as he nodded. “Did he seem okay?” Again, this conversation was not going like JT expected.

He thought of Malcolm, asking him not to tell Gil about his father.

“He seemed troubled,” JT said, as honest as he could be without giving away any of Malcolm’s confidences. He had seemed troubled, even before they exchanged a single word.

Gil tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I should have made him come with us.”

“I doubt many people can make Malcolm do anything he doesn’t want to do.” JT said it without thinking, and he watched Gil’s eyebrow raise.

“You got a pretty good read on him.”

“Oh, he gives off stubborn from word one,” JT replied. “He profiled me before even asking how I am.”

Gil laughed at that, “Of course he did.” He shook his head, but JT saw the pride in his look.

JT knew he should ask about the case, but he could not let go of the image of Malcolm standing in the snow, talking about arming himself—emotionally—to go see his family. “Can I ask you a question?” He waited for Gil to nod. “His family, are they dangerous?”

Gil’s eyes widened, “What did he tell you?”

JT did not answer. There were no truths he could tell the detective and he was not going to start off their relationship by lying.

Gil just nodded after a moment, “It’s the kid’s story to tell.” Then his hand tightened on the steering wheel and he cut a look over at JT. “Is he going to see his father?” There was something there, lines of deep worry that made JT feel cold. “Dammit, Mal.” JT heard a note close to genuine fear under the boss’s anger and it made his temperature drop a few more degrees.

“Is he in danger?” JT asked.

“I wish he would stop going to that man,” Gil said, “Or that he would at least tell me when he is.”

JT knew that it was crossing a line. So far he had told Gil nothing. The man had guessed his way to the answer. But JT was worried and so he ventured a step further. “He said he had something to tell him. Something he wasn’t going to like.”

Gil’s gaze hardened, “Did he tell you what?”

“He’s going to leave Hardvard, start a job his father would hate.”

Gil’s curses filled the car and suddenly he was switching lanes, taking a different road. He tossed his phone to JT. “Text Dani to handle the scene.”

“We’re going after Malcolm?” he asked, looking through Gil’s phone for whoever Dani was. Lucky, there only seemed to be one likely candidate in Gil’s phone. He sent the text and looked over. Gil’s face was a mix of fury and something deeper.

Fear.

JT fell silent, staring dead ahead instead. He focused on Gil’s driving, his grip tightening on the handhold as his new boss kept getting a bit close to other cars for his liking. JT knew his instincts had been right. Whatever was going on with Malcolm and his father, apparently it constituted an emergency.

JT tried to piece together the bits of information he got from Malcolm with the panicked way Gil was reacting to it. Whatever conclusions he was trying to put together completely shattered when he saw the building they were approaching. “The psychiatric prison? His father is here?”

Gil did not answer. He was out of the car, flashing his badge before they got a few feet in the door. Gil was demanding to immediately get in, his eyes darting toward the door. JT tried to squash down his own anxiety. Malcolm had not had but a few minute lead, even though they had to switch directions to get to him. Could it have been that long? Long enough to make a difference?

Then the alarms started blaring.

His senses narrowed, the talking around him going distant. Nothing seemed clear until he was moving with Gil through the halls. It was like navigating a nightmare, slow and unclear. Gil’s gun was in his hand.

“You can’t go in there!” An orderly shouted, “An inmate attacked a visitor.”

Gil’s growled answer was lost on him because in that moment JT knew. He knew. It was Malcolm. It was Malcolm they meant.

“Stay here,” Gil told him. A command he ignored. Gil did not waste time trying to enforce it. The orderlies shut the door behind them as they entered the hallway. JT heard the heavy lock engage.

A commotion ahead grabbed JT’s focus. His eyes went to a cell where three orderlies were currently wrestling back a middle-aged man. The man had dusted grey hair and wide, wild eyes.

Then Gil was shouting, his gun raised. It distracted the inmate long enough for an orderly to get a syringe in him. The inmate slumped in the orderly’s arms.

“Malcolm,” Gil said, holstering his gun and dropping to his knees. Then JT’s narrowed vision focused on the rest of the seen in front of him. Blood. Blood under his boots and the pale face of Malcolm, lying there, with blood gushing from a wound at his throat.

The throat still fresh with JT’s kisses, now bleeding out on the ground.

JT dropped to his knees. Gil’s hands were already covered in Malcolm’s blood as he pressed them to the wound in the kid’s neck.

“Get help!” JT screamed at the first orderly to leave the inmate’s side. He touched Malcolm’s face, “Hey. Stay with us. Stay. Malcolm…” He watched the light fade out of Malcolm’s eyes.

_-_-_

The hospital lights made Malcolm look even more pale than usual, JT thought as he stared down at the other man. Then he noticed a twitch of movement. Malcolm’s head jerked to the side. A gasp of fear on the kid’s lips. JT reached over and grabbed his arm. “Malcolm.”

Then Malcolm’s eyes opened wide, a scream struggling out of his injured throat.

“You’re safe,” JT said, pressing him back to the bed with a hand on his chest. He watched fear change to struggled confusion as Malcolm tried to understand what he was seeing.

“JT?” he asked, his voice painfully rough.

JT just nodded. “You should still be asleep, the sedative was pretty intense.”

“Sedatives don’t work on me. They aren’t supposed to give me sedatives,” Malcolm replied. JT had never seen anyone who could talk as much as Malcolm, so why did it not surprise him that this man was using what little energy he had to ramble with a throat injury.

“Shut up for a second will you?” JT got out, sound more annoyed than he meant to. “You’re gonna pull your stitches.”

Malcolm started to raise his hand, realized it was covered in IVs, and slowly raised to other, touching the bandage at his throat. His breath shuddered, pupils going wide with fear. JT put his hand back on Malcolm’s chest, right over his heart.

“You’re safe,” he said again.

“My father?”

“In his cell where he belongs.”

Malcolm closed his eyes, his face pained. “Gil?”

“He’s been at your side the whole time. I promised to watch you if he went for coffee. He’s going to be pissed you woke up while he was gone.” JT studied him, “Did you do it out of spite?” His words did not get through, Malcolm did not react at all. “He called your mother, she’s with your sister at the Cape, apparently. Gil said they’re on their way.” Nothing still. JT ran a hand over his face. “You’re um…Malcolm Whitly, huh?” That brought Malcolm’s eyes back to him. Then just as quickly, Malcolm looked away.

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

And JT got it. They were not strangers on a train anymore. Their lives were intertwined in ways neither of them could have imagined when they were saying things most close friends did not know to each other, thinking they would never meet again. Malcolm was laid out, vulnerable emotionally and physically. The only thing JT knew to do was offer something back.

“I didn’t want to talk about it either when I got injured overseas,” JT said. “I took me a long time to find direction again.” Malcolm looked over at him, but that was it. He had given the other man this one thing. “Sometimes it helps to talk about anything else.” He watched Malcolm relax a hair, but the haunted look was still deep in the other man’s eyes. JT wanted nothing more than to chase those ghosts away. “So,” he said, “What’s worse? Making out with your boss’s surrogate son the day before you start your new job or making out with his new hire when he doesn’t even know you’re in the city?”

“Yours is worse,” Malcolm replied.

“Yeah,” JT replied, sighing.

“Made worse that you asked your boss’s surrogate son back to your place.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely off the table now.”

He watched as something shut down in Malcolm’s eyes. “Which of my father’s made up your mind for you?” His words were cold, but Malcolm was a bit too medicated to quite hide the vulnerability in his words.

“Gil, obviously,” JT replied. He pointed toward the door, “That’s the kind of man whose son you take out for dinner first.”

Malcolm’s expression went completely startled.

“I’ve been sitting here watching you sleep, wondering. If Gil hadn’t shown up at the station, if you’d come back with me, stayed the night…would I have been able to let you walk back out of my life?”

“And?”

JT looked at him. “I’d like to see where this goes.” He hesitated. “If that’s what you want.”

Malcolm reached for him, catching a bit of JT’s shirt in his weak grip. “I’d like that.”

“I’m going to ask you again when you’re on less medication.”

“I’m never on less medication, just different ones.”

“I don’t think we can unpack that sentence right now.”

Malcolm tugged weakly on JT’s shirt and he obliged, if only to keep Malcolm from pulling his stitches. He leaned toward him and gently kissed Malcolm. It was softer than the one from the train because he was injured and this was different. It was no longer a desperate reaching for connection, it was something that could unfold.

Something with a lot more at risk.

He pulled back.

“Must have been one hell of a train ride.”

JT jerked back from Malcolm and looked up at Gil standing in the doorway, eyebrow raised with two coffee’s in his hands.

JT stammered wordlessly trying to find anyway to answer that.

Gil shook his head, “Oh, we’ll circle back to this.” Then he walked across the room, sitting the coffee’s aside. “You okay, kid?”

The haunted look was back. Malcolm’s hand started to shake, “I’m fine,” he said, voice breaking. Gil brushed Malcolm’s hair back from his face gently.

“I’m gonna get some air,” JT said, standing and heading toward the door to give them a moment to themselves.

“You’re coming back?” Malcolm asked, his voice sneaking under yet another layer of JT’s skin. He looked back and nodded.

_-_-_

Malcolm was stealing glances at him all through dinner that were causing little surges of electricity through JT. His throat was not entirely healed yet, but he could talk without pain now, and he had not stopped for hardly a breath all the way through dinner.

JT found himself just watching Malcolm talk, so completely taken with the way he gestured when he got animated. JT could not help but think, if they had met under different circumstances, he would have resisted this feeling. If he had known this was the boss’s son or that Malcolm would become an inescapable fixture in his life, he would have thrown up walls.

He suspected Malcolm would have too.

But they had both been at the precipice of change, both filled with anxiety over what came next, and it made them vulnerable in a way JT had never imagined being with anyone. He knew too that if Malcolm had left his side that night at the train station and not gotten hurt, JT would never have gotten up the bravery to find the bridge between their meeting as strangers and the reality of who they were to each other. If even one thing had been different, JT was not sure the two of them would ever have figured this out.

“Want dessert?” JT asked, but Malcolm just shook his head. “Do you want to…”

“Yes.”

_-_-_

JT opened the door to his apartment and let Malcolm inside. They were kissing before he fully got the door shut. He was careful of Malcolm’s stitches, but Malcolm was not. JT stepped with him, kissing him, toward the bed. They fell together.

If Malcolm was an acquired taste, he was a taste JT had acquired.


End file.
